I preface this post with the disclaimer that this started as an experiment but turned into something else. I discovered Stiles Stilinski is a tumblr favorite after the fact and was rather reluctant to post b/c anxiety. Got a good review from a friend though so here it is:
How I would Set Up and Open the Teen Wolf Movie
*We move though the living room and pan over some old photos of Scott, Stiles, Lydia, Allison. Stiles and his Dad, graduation from High School and police academy on the mantel. As we pan into the dining room, coming to a stop at the table. Stiles is asleep resting his head on the table*
Stiles eyes flash open.
He lifted his head up off the table and with it, a paper and a photo from the case files he'd been studying. Rubbing his neck, he turns and squints at the clock as the paper curls down and he pulls it off his face. 2am. He sighed placing the paper back on the table with its respective folder, only to begin shuffling through several others. He closed his lap top, and looked underneath it. Then checked the floor. Panicking for a moment before finding the missing photo and peeling it from the side of his face. He placed it down next to 4 others arranged in front of him. It was only a little crumpled. "Oops."
He studied them for a few moments. Resting his elbows on the table, his head on his hands. He sighed again and leaned back in the chair. Pausing for a thoughtful moment before rubbing his hands on his stubbly face and then through his hair. "This is stupid." He groaned, sliding down in his chair a bit, beginning to feel frustrated. "I really should be able to figure this out..." But this was all he had to go on.
Sitting up and scratched his chin, he grabbed the glass next to him and rocked it toward him, checking that it was empty.
He continued contemplating how to build his case. His mind roved around the room, his eyes blankly followed, up to the ceiling and then out into the kitchen. "I should really... ...shit." his gaze stopped on the full trash bag he'd meant to take out after dinner.
...Had he eaten? Probaby.
He shrugged and pulled himself up from the chair, glancing once more at the case photos. It just didn't make any sense that they'd find tracks like that. Not in this area of the country...
Well, this is Beacon Hills, he thought as he placed his glass in the sink and grabbed the trash. "It's been years since we've had something remotely so strange..." he muttered making his way out the door and over to the garbage can. "I suppose it was only a matter of time. Of course they think it's a reach."
Stiles had pulled 5 separate cases that had a spanned the last 5 years. All were closed on solid evidence. All were seemingly unrelated. He wasn't so sure...
He lifted the lid and dropped in the bag. Pausing for a pensive moment.
"...It was difficult enough convincing anyone before..."
Stiles sighed again, lost in some bitter sweet memories of his friends and their past adventures.
A massive crash suddenly came from the woods just across the street. This instantly startled him back into the present, he dropped the lid and it made a loud thud. Instinctively feeling for his weapon without taking his eyes off of the dark tree line. "Shiiiiit!" he whispered. Glancing down at tank top, open flannel, sweatpants and socks .
Tomorrow, er, today, was his first day off in 2 weeks. It was mandated.
An unsettling scraping noise began, coming from the same direction. "Oh my god." he hissed. Taking it as his cue to leap back into the house.
Wildly throwing open the screen door it stretched to the limit of its spring as he scrambled in through the kitchen jamming on his shoes and grabbing his 9mm and flashlight from off the counter. Making it back outside before the door knocked shut.
"I have a good feeling this is something that will make my case..." he said to himself while checking that the gun's chamber was clear, then flicked on the saftey.
He breifly shoved both instruments into his pockets just long enough to hike up his pants and tie the drawsting tighter as he quietly hustled across the street and crept into the woods, firearm drawn.
To be continued...
